Armed with a wrench, she broke into her home,
taking only what would fit in her car:
family heirlooms,
her books,
their dog.
Her dignity.
He called his family to join in the judgment,
to see what this wretch was doing to their boy.
Rather, they watched her take
Her Dignity.
She moved and didn’t take anything with her.
Not the rumors.
Not the lies,
the deceit, adultery, abuse,
the easy way out.
She moved and didn’t take anything with her,
But Her Dignity.
Julia Hy lives in Buffalo, New York, in a small house with two large dogs and a mischievous kitten. Returning to school to complete a major in Creative Writing and Illustration, she fills her time with painting and arts of all sorts, writing, editing, and reviewing fantastic literature.
Poem originally published on 4/10/15
